


Snow

by ElvenMaia, orphan_account



Series: Inkwell [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Aragorn gets flustered, Caradhras, Cute Kids, Feel-good, Gen, Storytelling, baby arwen - Freeform, mischievous baby arwen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 20:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenMaia/pseuds/ElvenMaia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “—Now, as some know, Elrond’s twin sons absolutely delight in afflicting others in their clever schemes,” Aragorn nodded heartily at this and Legolas chuckled. “But I was nearly convinced they had taken counseling in this area from their younger sister, for she kept her mischievous streak hidden well up her sleeve...”





	Snow

_The Caradhras..._

Legolas tried to shield his face with his hand from the onslaught of small white flurries of the tiny ice-crystals that scattered in the wind and whipped into the faces of the nine trudging travelers a little ways behind. He squinted against the wind for what seemed the millionth time that day in attempt to pierce the frenzied flakes that smeared even his superior elven sight into somewhat of a blur.

He swiveled back and forth. Nothing.

He dropped his head once again, trying to hide his face from the merciless beating of the wind in his cowl. He skipped along on the surface of the accumulated snow for a few more minutes before stopping to repeat the same routine of trying to spot a suitable shelter.

If it were just Legolas himself, he would have found a small niche to curl up in long ago, but because he had to find enough space for nine bodies _and_ a pony— he wouldn’t of minded if it was just him and the pony though; it was a rather kindly beast— he had to find somewhere big. Like a cave.

_Blasted dwarf is probably over himself with amusement_, Legolas thought bitterly. The elf had already voiced his dislike of underground places at the choosing of some of their prior shelters. Which, of course, led to the jibe of ‘Don’t you wood elves live in a big cave anyways?’ from Aragorn. He wouldn’t of minded if it was just Aragorn and himself... or even if seven other members of the Fellowship were present; Legolas wanted to keep himself above being prone to the dwarf’s barbs.

Well, actually if it would’ve been just the elf—even with the pony— he wouldn’t be turning back after coming this far along, just to go through some dwarf-infested mine that they probably wouldn’t be heading to if it wasn’t for the dwarf’s prodding.

He shivered involuntarily at the very thought of going down there.

Maybe the dwarf would finally leave him alone to encourage the others in their gawking of the finest of dwarven architecture. Or maybe the stunted creature would pester him further on his set opinion of the superiority of ‘hardy dwarves’ over the ‘fragile tree lovers that cared for nothing else but their woods.’

“‘Them elves probably use tree sap for blood anyhow,’”Legolas mimicked in an attempted gruff voice.

The elf sighed and shoved his hands further into the pockets of his vest and started up again. He even started to make it a habit to shove his fist through some of the snow that had accumulated on the precipice that towered above him to the right to see if there was a hidden... enclave of some sort hiding there. Turns out, he gained nothing but scraped knuckles for some underestimated measurements of the thickness of the snow. It probably didn’t help that his thoughts had drifted back to the dwarf and his waggling eyebrows and stumpy little legs stomping along as he hollered with laughter over the most minuscule thing only because it was in Legolas’ expense.

Legolas shook his head and stopped to survey the area once again.

Aaaaaand... there!

He carried himself over the snow, looking similar to a leaf dappled with sunlight dancing in step with the pull of the wind in his green hunting garb and streak of golden hair whipping wildly.

Approaching an inclined mound of snow with bits of the cool gray rock peeking through, he began to dig away.

And found a large cave. Making a mental note of the exact location of the cave, he started back up the incline to inform the rest of the Fellowship and to lead them there.

oOo

The elf approached the men, hobbits, wizard and... dwarf and hailed them.

“I have found a shelter for the night,” Legolas said.

“Good!” Gandalf started.

“Ho! Try ‘n make some noise at least! Ida thought you was a ghost if I didn’t know any better, or maybe after a few pints,” Gimli complained gruffly. “Even his face is white as this blasted snow,” he added quietly after a stern look from Gandalf that clearly translated into ‘_Not now, Gimli!_’.

Legolas pursed his lips, wrinkled his nose, and raised his brows ever so slightly in distaste. He had been expecting such from the dwarf.

Now was not the time to exchange witty barbs. Or at least, however much wit was present in the dwarf’s stone head— if there was any at all... _Not now, Legolas!_ he reminded himself. The poor hobbits were turning blue with cold and Aragorn and Boromir looked beside themselves with weariness. It looked like the stress from Saruman’s assault was still weighing on them heavily. The hobbits were weighing on the Men too, and Gandalf, of course, just in a much more literal fashion.

With these elements in mind, Legolas silently bid everyone hurry.

oOo

A few hours later, the Fellowship was nestled inside the cave, sprawled on their bedrolls.

The mood was rather dismal, and the atmosphere dark without a merry fire crackling amongst them. They didn’t dare light one, be it like a beacon of their location to the unfriendly eyes of the enemy.

The hobbits sat huddled in their piles of blankets, tearing nonchalantly through pieces of dried meat. Gimli absently ran his fingers along the handle of one of his axes and Boromir, Aragorn, and Gandalf simply stared at the walls or the floor. Legolas busied himself with checking and re-checking the fletching of his arrows, though he knew they were all perfect, and instead began sharpening, polishing, and oiling his twin blades.

“Well this won’t do will it?” Aragorn said to break the uneasy silence.

“What I wouldn’t do for a nice rabbit stew to warm me right up from the inside,” mused Sam as he tore off another bite, staring dreamily at it as if just in case it were to magically turn into his wish.

“It does no good to think about what we don’t have, dear Sam,” said Merry. “How about a song?”

Pippin shook his head. “I don’t feel much like singin’.”

“Well, what’d’ya think, Frodo?” Merry asked, noting with silent concern that he was fingering the chain at his neck once again.

“Rather hard to think ‘o much in cold like this. I’d reckon this is colder than the coldest winter we’ve ever had back in the Shire,” Sam answered solemnly.

“What about a story?” Aragorn said.

“Oh, I’m no good with stories, Strider. Not much exciting things to the life of a simple gardener,” Sam said.

“I’m afraid it’s the same with every hobbit,” Frodo said.

“We’re just simple folk,” agreed Pippin.

“Well I cant think up anything worthy of this night,” said Boromir. “Mithrandir? Aragorn?”

Gandalf took out his pipe and began cleaning out the bowl and blowing through the stem to clear it. “I’m afraid I’ve grown accustomed to Bilbo telling all the tales.”

Legolas gave another one of his signature looks of distaste to the pipe and continued to bend over his work.

“I can’t think of much at all with all this snow,” Aragorn stated blandly.

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Master Human. I have plenty of tales of glorious battle and fine deeds from my kin, but those wouldn’t do for a day such as this,” said Gimli. Gimli suddenly turned sharply in his seat, making Legolas jerk to his weapons. He stopped himself and grit his teeth. He still marveled at how the stunted creature could push _all_ his buttons.

“I suppose you would have a tale for this snow to pick from in _all_ your years, Master Elf,” Gimli said.

Legolas heard the intended challenge clearly.

He looked up thoughtfully and stowed the supplies he had been working with.

“In fact, I do,” Legolas said with a smile creeping across his face with a mischievous glance at Aragorn as his audience leaned in.

Well, most of his audience.

He rubbed his hands and stood on his knees as the other made themselves comfortable.

“I was about fifty years old and I had accompanied my lord and father to Imladris for a meeting between the Realms’ leaders to refresh relations and discuss any changes that needed to take place. Now, as some know, Elrond’s twin sons absolutely delight in afflicting others in their clever schemes,” Aragorn nodded heartily at this and Legolas chuckled. “But I was nearly convinced they had taken counseling in this area from their younger sister, for she kept her mischievous streak hidden well up her sleeve...”

oOo

Arwen stomped her foot stubbornly. She didn’t want to stay inside. She wanted to go outside with the boys and play with them! It was no fair! Just because she was younger and a girl didn’t mean she couldn’t play with her brothers and the young visiting Prince. Her Ada had hurriedly reassured her that they needed their own time for a little, and then she could join them in their competitions — for that is what they were most likely running off to do— on the morrow. He had then proceeded to rush to his office for session.

But that’s what he said yesterday! And the day before!

She plopped down on a bench on the terrace just down the hallway from where the Leaders were in session in Elrond’s study.

She propped her chin on her forearm where it rested on the railing. Arwen grew bored of watching the browned leaves scuttle across the ground with the wind and her attention was quickly diverted as she noticed her breath misted in the chill late-autumn air.

A small speck of white floated down and settled itself on her pink little nose and she crossed her eyes to watch it melt on the warm skin. More flakes began floating down, down, down, catching in her eyelashes and upturned palm, much to her delight.

She let out a satisfied squeal and kneeled on the cushioned bench and let out a deep, excited breath as an odd feeling of exhilaration filled her chest as she watched the snowflakes drop and settle on the peaceful land around her.

She tucked out her tongue and attempted to catch them, smacking her lips as if she had just licked a spoon of honey, after a considerable amount of snowflakes had melted on her tongue.

She leaned farther over the railing; the whole top half of her body now leaning precariously over the elegant curling iron bars. Both palms upturned and outstretched, she tried to collect as many of the small crystals as she could, and observed how they condensed into a few drops of water. The snowflakes that had caught on the sleeve of her dress melted into the fabric as well, turning it slightly damp.

Now intrigued, she ran inside the library and retrieved a porcelain vase from an oaken lamp stand and placed on the floor of the terrace right next to the bench she had previously been perched on. Surveying her work with arms crossed and a satisfied smile she ran back inside, going straight to the Head Chef to see if she needed any help getting something from the storeroom; it was getting close to supper time.

She liked it down in the storeroom, but she especially liked running cellar errands for Cook because she wore a quiver-like backpack to put the desired supplies in and often felt like a huntress dashing through the spacey rooms leading to the cellar.

The next day, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas sprinted from one room to the broom closet, then dashed across the hall into another room.

“You think she’s gonna come?” Elrohir whispered as they huddled together in a crouch behind the curtains.

“I don’t know, I don’t see or hear her, and I think that means she’s not following us,” Legolas said. “We should hurry; we leave this evening and we still need to do five more rounds.”

“Maybe so,” Elladan said, then cautiously crept away from under the curtains and peeked through the crack of the slightly ajar door. “It’s clear, let’s go!”

Throughout the day, the trio were astonished and rather relieved when Arwen made no further attempts to trail them around. They even saw her at the midday meal, but she excused herself early and scurried off to Eru knows where.

Legolas exchanged a suspicious look with the twins from across the dining table.

oOo

Legolas couldn’t help it much longer and doubled over with laughter and Aragorn gave him an odd look. He choked down his mirth and tried to continue his story.

“She-she— We didn’t find out until we were nearly out of Imladris *chuckle* but she managed to put snow in all our packs. Every. *chuckle* Single. One. Everything was completely soaked through and frozen solid from the frigid air. We had to return and happened to stay at the Last Homely House for another fortnight,” Legolas was interrupted with another spell of mirth. “The food, the clothes, everything,” he murmured in fond remembrance.

“You should have seen the look on her face as we came parading back through the gates, snow caked on our cloaks.

“She stood there smiling sweetly, hands clasped behind her back and twirling from side to side, her eyes twinkling above her pink little nose,” he gazed at the cave wall, smiling and looking as if he were far away, reminiscing.

The acknowledgment that he was in the oppressing walls of a cave had fled to the back of his mind as replaced with the pleasant memory. He turned his blue eyes and cheery countenance on Aragorn, mischief sparkling in a very knowing gaze; he was very aware of the Ranger’s current relationship with Arwen Undomiel.

Aragorn tried his hardest to keep the flutter in his heart not show on his face, but couldn’t help as a small blush crept to his ears. He simply shook his head in a wry smile with a warning undertone.

Everyone chuckled, gratefully embracing the imagery of the story that the beautiful elf painted in favor of the travel’s trials and dismal weather.

Legolas made sure to give Gimli a lifted eyebrow of smug triumph, and the dwarf in turn harrumphed into his beard.

“Did Lady Arwen ever prank you, Strider?” Merry asked, laughing at the thought of a little Aragorn standing in front of an open door in Rivendell, a bucket covering the scowl on his face, and the rest of him sopping wet and dripping all over the floor. It seemed silly that the stunning and ever-elegant and graceful creature that Arwen was would go about hiding and scooping snow into the guests’ belongings.

“No! That is why I have an inkling Legolas is making up the whole thing,” Aragorn once again turned a wry smile on the elf, but this time it was the Ranger that was sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, it is quite true, I assure you,” Legolas said. “The best part is that she was able to throw all the blame on Elladan and Elrohir, and no one had any qualms or suspicions that they we not in fact faulty, but the guilty was the accuser herself.”

“How did you find out what she did?” Pippin asked in admiration.

Legolas grinned at the very serious look on the young hobbit’s face. “Well, it turns out a certain servant that was often in and out of that certain room, had seen Arwen conducting her experiments on the verandah. When Arwen found out that her secret ministrations had been discovered, she had passed the very astonished maid a bag of gold coins and gave an indication for the maid to be silent about it all.

“But of course, after our party had returned to the Valley with all our supplies spoiled, the maid had returned the coins and told everything to Lord Elrond. We all had a merry laugh about it, and enjoyed our prolonged stay. Well, all except my father I think. He was rather anxious to get home, I think.”

Gandalf smiled as he drew from his pipe with a flourish as the hobbits erupted into merry laughs, namely Frodo. This kind of thing was right up the alley for the younger two, and Gandalf reminded himself to be sure and subtly threaten Pippin; he had a rather too-serious brooding look on his face at the moment as if pondering this new-found information.

The wizard appreciated the elf for taking hold of the night, for he had a special way of lifting a body’s spirit. Even if it had just been another one of the childish squabbles between the elf and dwarf, Gandalf himself felt his spirit brighten a bit from the dead weight of stress and leadership and being looked up to.

Even wizards needed a respite sometimes. And a story to lighten the mood was a nice bonus.

He cast his eyes back to where the golden Prince stood on his knees to be above his seated audience, waving his arms animatedly. Gandalf’s eyes fell on the four, small creatures he came to love so staring up at Legolas eagerly and his heart warmed. It was a good feeling.

Maybe he would ask the elf to tell another story tomorrow night too.

**Author's Note:**

> :) Hope y’all enjoyed!  
Comments are a huge encouragement :D


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